Title: Chow Yun-fat in Project Gutenberg: A Meta-Cinematic Masterpiece of Identity and Illusion
By [taojieli.com]
In an era where Hollywood franchises dominate global screens, Hong Kong cinema’s Project Gutenberg (2018)—released internationally as The Counterfeiters—stands as a defiant celebration of storytelling audacity and the timeless magnetism of Chow Yun-fat. Directed by Felix Chong, this neo-noir crime thriller transcends its genre trappings to deliver a labyrinthine exploration of duality, artistry, and the seductive power of self-invention. For Western audiences unfamiliar with Chow’s legacy, Project Gutenberg serves as both an introduction to his legendary career and a startling reinvention of it.
- The Genius of Narrative Subversion
At its core, Project Gutenberg is a film about storytelling itself. The plot revolves around Lee Man (Aaron Kwok), a struggling painter turned counterfeiter who spins an elaborate tale to the police about his coerced collaboration with the enigmatic “Painter” (Chow Yun-fat), a criminal mastermind behind a global counterfeit currency ring. The brilliance lies in Chong’s decision to let Lee’s unreliable narration dominate 90% of the runtime, blurring the lines between truth and fabrication.
Chow’s Painter is initially presented as a flamboyant, trench-coated antihero—a deliberate callback to his 1980s roles in A Better Tomorrow and The God of Gamblers. He wields dual AK-47s in a chaotic shootout, a scene that directly mirrors his iconic “bloodshed in a church” sequence from The Killer (1989). Yet, this nostalgia is subverted by the film’s third-act twist: Painter is merely a figment of Lee’s imagination, a composite of Chow’s cinematic personas crafted to absolve himself of guilt. This meta-commentary transforms Chow into both a character and a symbol—a living archive of Hong Kong cinema’s golden age, repurposed for modern psychological drama.
- Chow Yun-fat: The Man, the Myth, the Mirage
Chow’s performance here is a masterclass in duality. As Painter, he oscillates between ruthless pragmatism (“In this world, only one in a million matters—the rest are just background”) and tragic romanticism. His chemistry with Kwok’s Lee mirrors the mentor-protagonist dynamic of Infernal Affairs, but with a crucial difference: Painter exists solely to magnify Lee’s insecurities.
The film’s production notes reveal that Chow insisted on performing his own stunts, including a high-risk chase scene where he sustained minor injuries—a testament to his enduring commitment to physical authenticity. Yet, the true revelation is his ability to deconstruct his own mythos. When Lee’s narrative crumbles, Chow reappears in the epilogue as a nameless police officer—a mundane, aging bureaucrat who embodies the film’s central thesis: legends are often lies we choose to believe.
- The Art of Fakery: From Currency to Identity
-Project Gutenberg* derives its English title from Johannes Gutenberg’s printing revolution—an ironic nod to the protagonists’ mission to democratize forgery. The film meticulously details the counterfeit process, from etching plates to sourcing rare Prussian blue ink, elevating crime procedural to high art. These sequences, reminiscent of Breaking Bad’s meth-cooking montages, serve as metaphors for artistic creation itself: both require technical precision and moral compromise.
This theme extends to the characters. Lee’s forged banknotes mirror his forged identity, while Painter’s flamboyance masks Lee’s inadequacies. Even the romantic subplot—where Lee surgically alters a former accomplice (Zhang Jingchu) into a doppelgänger of his unrequited love—becomes a grotesque commentary on the human desire to curate reality. As one character chillingly remarks, “Counterfeiting isn’t about replicating perfection; it’s about making people believe in the lie.”
- Visual and Aesthetic Paradoxes
Cinematographer Jason Kwan contrasts the gritty realism of Hong Kong’s underworld with hyper-stylized set pieces. A Macau casino heist unfolds in golden hues reminiscent of Chungking Express, while a snowbound Canadian showdown evokes the bleak minimalism of Fargo. This visual dichotomy mirrors the story’s thematic tension between glamour and grime.
Costume design further amplifies Chow’s dual roles. As Painter, he dines in bespoke three-piece suits and silk pocket squares—a sartorial nod to his God of Gamblers era. In contrast, his police officer guise wears ill-fitting uniforms, symbolizing the collapse of cinematic grandeur into banal reality.
- Cultural Resonance and Global Relevance
While rooted in Hong Kong’s cinematic legacy, Project Gutenberg speaks to universal anxieties in the digital age. Its exploration of “deepfake” identities predates contemporary debates about AI-generated art and synthetic media. The film’s climax—where Lee’s fabricated world implodes—feels eerily prescient in an era of algorithmic echo chambers and curated online personas.
For Western viewers, the movie also demystifies Chow Yun-fat. No longer just “Asia’s answer to Cary Grant,” he emerges as a shapeshifting icon interrogating his own legend. This aligns with recent Hollywood deconstructions like The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, yet with far greater emotional stakes.
Conclusion: The Lasting Spell of a Cinematic Mirage
-Project Gutenberg* is more than a crime thriller—it’s a hall of mirrors reflecting Hong Kong cinema’s past, present, and uncertain future. Chow Yun-fat, at 63, delivers a performance that is both a farewell to his heroic archetypes and a daring step into uncharted territory.
The film’s final shot lingers on a blank canvas, inviting audiences to project their own narratives onto it. In this ambiguity lies its genius: like the counterfeit bills at its core, Project Gutenberg derives value not from authenticity, but from our collective willingness to believe in the illusion.
Final Rating: 4.5/5
Why Watch It?
- A meta-textual journey through Chow Yun-fat’s iconic career.
- A brain-teasing narrative that rewards multiple viewings.
- Visually sumptuous set pieces blending Eastern and Western aesthetics.
Where to Stream: Available on Amazon Prime and Viki with English subtitles.